


On The Mat

by Hopetohell



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: August Walker prefers a...hands-onapproach to training.
Relationships: August Walker/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	On The Mat

When he tells you to punch him in the teeth, your first instinct is to drop to the ground because he is enormous, huge and muscled and exudes an air of _do not fuck with me_. You’ve seen what he’s hiding under those boring suits, felt the raw unbridled strength of him. The way his hands—okay, you’re getting distracted again. 

“What are you going to do in the field? You think your target will let you take them down because they feel sorry for you? Now _hit_ me.” 

You raise your gloves and get into position again, rocking on the balls of your feet. You take a swipe, feel your glove graze his cheek. The next thing you know, you’re facedown on the mat with one arm twisted behind your back. “You leave yourself open,” he says, breath hot over the shell of your ear. “You leave yourself wide open, so your enemy can get right. up. inside. your guard.”

Fuck, he’s heavy. But the way he’s caging you with his body, it’s so easy to rock your hips back, rub right where his hips pin you to the mat. And _oh_ how he growls at that, rolling his hips down in return, with his mouth so close to your ear you can hear the tiny hitch in his breath as his cock slips along the cleft of your ass. _Fuck_ , he could just tug your little workout shorts aside and slide right inside you, with how wet you are. 

And then he’s pulling off you and you whine at the loss but it’s only so he can bite at the bindings of his gloves, tearing at them in his haste to get his hands on you. As soon as the gloves are off he’s tugging your shorts down, kneeling over you to bite at your hipbones before just lifting you up and onto his cock. 

You want to touch him so desperately, want to dig your fingers into his skin through his thin workout shirt. You want to dig your fingers under his collarbones and scapulae, to bruise him deep, to get inside him like he’s inside you now. But the best you can do is cross your gloved hands behind his neck, biting at his lips, mouth open and wet. 

With the way he’s kneeling he can really put the full force of his thick thighs behind every upward thrust. And with the way he’s working you with his hand at the same time, it’s not long before he’s got you screaming and clenching around him. And he just. keeps. going. It’s not until you have actual tears in your eyes, sobbing from the overstimulation, that he lets himself go. He spills into you with a shout, hips juddering through his orgasm. And when he’s caught his breath, he staggers to his feet, tucks himself away, reaches for his gloves. 

“Alright. Let’s go again.”


End file.
